Never Leave
by Number1PixarFan
Summary: Oneshot. He loves she, she loves he, and he loves he. Kevin, Nazz, and Rolf are caught in a triangle, the complexities of which none of them are completely aware of. Each of them is desperate for another, and the sex only makes them more confused.


**A/N: I can't believe I wrote this. I can't believe I'm publishing this. But here it is, my first ever "lemon." I tried to give it substance and it's not especially graphic, but it's steamier than any of my other stories.**

**I used to write goofy Full House oneshots. What happened to me?**

**But seriously.**

**I ship the hell out of every combination of Kevin, Nazz, and Rolf, but none of these pairings seem especially popular, or at least written for. BUT I SHIP THEM SO HARD. I really wanted to read this, and since I doubted anyone else would ever write it, I gave it a go.**

**I hope you enjoy! Please R&R!**

* * *

Nobody expected them to have a flawless relationship. After all, their lives were so perfect already, and it just wouldn't be fair to anyone else. And indeed, for the sake of karmic balance, Kevin and Nazz had problems. He was a terrible listener. She was sometimes a nag. And their sex was awful. Really, _really _god-awful.

Of course, Kevin didn't have anything else to compare it to – Nazz was the only girl he'd ever wanted and the only one he'd ever had. But he'd heard it was supposed to be fun, and it just wasn't. And it was all his fault. He thought too much. He squirmed too much. He didn't have any special moves. It always ended okay for him, but if Nazz wasn't enjoying herself, he found he couldn't really enjoy himself either. He only wanted her to please her. And could she really love him if he didn't?

At least she loved it when he won games. After a landslide football victory against the Lemon Brook Goons, Nazz gleefully swept Kevin to her house and into her bedroom with happy kisses and some pretty clear intentions. If she was leading, she must have had some ideas. She sat on her bed, letting herself bounce on the flouncy quilt before pulling him into her lap.

"Kev, you were amazing out there," she said, resting her forehead against his. She stretched her arms slowly and softly around his shoulders, and Kevin gulped in anticipation.

"I dunno about amazing . . . "

Nazz giggled and bit her lip – her most adorable expression. Kevin smiled back and tossed his jacket to the floor. She kissed him once more, and that seemed to be the cue for "Less Talking, More Groping." They moved further onto the bed and soon, they were both under the other's shirt. Kevin shivered as her cool hands pressed against his toned chest. He eagerly shifted closer to her and started to kiss even harder. He fumbled with her bra and was rewarded with a hand brushing against his tightening pants.

Kevin broke the kiss and groaned. "_Fuck, _Nazz . . . "

Nazz opened her mouth, and Kevin expected a sigh or a moan or a murmur of his name to complement his. Instead . . .

"So, what are your plans for the weekend?"

Small talk.

Kevin coughed. His thoughts were still contained in his crotch. "My, the, uh, the weekend?"

"Yeah." Nazz nonchalantly reached back to help him with the clasp. "Three days, you know? Gotta make them count."

Kevin stared at her.

"Like, I'm staying with my aunt Sunday night and the next day we're going shopping at this way cool, really big mall near her place."

Kevin nodded vacantly.

"That's after the cheer meet on Sunday, of course –"

"Wait, you're gone Sunday _and _Monday?" said Kevin, suddenly catching up. "Shit, I'm getting dragged out of town on Saturday. We're not gonna see each other at all."

"_Boo. _That's a bummer."

"I'm really going to miss you, babe." Kevin smiled sadly and put a hand on her hip.

Nazz immediately moved his hand up to her chest. "Aw, ditto, Kev! So, are we ready?"

"For what?"

"I don't know. What were we just doing?"

Kevin shrugged, too busy looking into her eyes. They were dewy with mascara and cheerful as ever, and a little bit peeved. Two hands grasped him behind the neck and forced him to look down. He shook his head in confusion, only to realize that they had both stripped completely while distracted with chatter, and that Nazz was now lying expectantly between his legs. "Fuck!" he muttered. "Sorry . . . sorry. Let's do this, babe."

The passion of the moment was officially gone, and all he had left was an erection and a naked girlfriend.

The heat between their hips was palpable, but that was just biology. Blood flow and shit like that. Kevin knew they had another boring rendezvous ahead of them. Nonetheless, his heart was pounding because Nazz was just so great, and in his head, he was screaming a million wishes that one day they would be great together.

"You know I love you, right, Nazz?"

"Of course I do, Kev. Why would you even ask me that?"

Kevin didn't respond, instead sighing in bitter relief as he pushed into her. They loved each other. That was all that mattered in the end. Bad sex or great sex, she could never leave him.

* * *

Nazz didn't know where she was. She'd taken off her blindfold to the most unearthly blackness, and since then she'd lost all sense of dimension. She could have been against a wall or upside-down or even floating in midair and she wouldn't have known, and perhaps a light-headed feeling would have tipped her off, but the sensations coursing through her made that all moot, because what she did know were her legs spread wider than she ever thought she could spread them and the amazing guy pounding between them.

Rolf called it the "Sanctum of Amorousness," and it belonged to his parents. "So the demons of their debauchery cannot escape and make foul the cul-de-sac," he'd explained to her that morning.

"But it's your parents'! Why would _you _use it?" she'd responded, comforted only by the fact that she'd never formally met his parents.

"To shield the cul-de-sac from demon-fouling, of course! Whilst intercoursing, Rolf and Nazz-girl shall produce many of our own, yes?"

It seemed – no, it was – disgusting at first. But although this culture had a backwards idea of sex, Nazz quickly learned to ignore it. Only in the Old World would a man reel in horror at harmless public flirting and still kiss better than a horny American like Kevin.

And touch more tenderly than Kevin.

And taste sweeter than Kevin and lick faster than Kevin and fuck harder than Kevin. This was cheating, trashy, slutty cheating, but Nazz felt electricity in places Kevin had never so much as touched.

Rolf moved his hand to the small of her back and lifted her closer with barely a grunt. She could smell him now. He'd broiled a pig that morning, and he was covered in spices and grease – hearty and raw. She was in the arms of a real man, one who had her already nearing her third orgasm.

And she wanted to share this one with him. She scaled a rigid wall of sweaty abdominals and pectorals with her hands, following the sound of his rough, determined breathing to his head. Grabbing his shoulders for stability, she kissed him passionately and panted into the corner of his mouth, "Oh my God, Rolf. I think I love you." Finally, she screamed in ecstasy and let herself collapse in a convulsing heap.

Above her, Rolf's breathing grew heavier, and soon, a warm something began raining down. Nazz could only imagine what his face looked like as he released his demons. She prayed that next time – and there would most definitely be a next time – she might be able to see him in his full glory, although she knew he would never leave the Sanctum of Amorousness.

* * *

Kevin buttoned his jeans and wiped some residual sweat from his neck. He hurried much too much to replace his shirt, creating wrinkles, sure signs of what they'd just done. Rolf was nervous, patting down any crease Kevin's fingers had left in his sleeves. But nothing seemed to spoil Kevin's Limburger. He brushed the straw out of his hair, flipped his hat backwards, and ambled out the shed door as if nothing had changed since he went in.

Before he left, he flashed Rolf a look with something in it – a desire to bid him a farewell or give his thanks, and hopefully not to disparage his love-making skills. Rolf felt a sudden pang of disappointment in his abdomen when nothing came. They'd agreed to never acknowledge their escapade ever again, but Rolf was now alone and his legs were chilly.

It would have been best if he'd never shown Kevin his magazines.

The recent advent of the Internet had brought to Rolf's attention shocking stereotypes of those from the old country. Nameless sprites vandalized the screen of his computer with tales of his people engaging in poisonous acts behind closed doors, ones that made America's terrifying sexuality seem as harmless as milking a cow. But Rolf hadn't believed it until his cousin Dimitri sent him the bootleg Old World magazines.

It turned out that true filth was not in how openly a culture corked, but the position _in which _it corked.

"Show me how you do it, big boy," the No-Eyes Kanker-girl had said to him.

"Oh . . . oh, Rolf. Let's do this," Nazz-girl had said.

"Damn, those Old World sluts look like they're really enjoying themselves. You think you could teach me how to do some of these tricks?" Kevin had said, in a way that didn't at all suggest he expected what happened to happen.

Three times, that was, that Rolf had been roped into debauchery. What a horrid array of evils he'd already released into the world at the age of seventeen, and for what? Only one experience that had felt at all real.

Rolf knew something about Kevin had been different. He sighed and rested his head on a bale of hay as he thought it over. Could it have been that Kevin was a best friend, with Nazz-girl only second-best and the Kanker-girl a sworn foe who liked taking off her neighbors' clothing? Or that they had not practiced safe sex in the Sanctum of Amorousness? Or was it simply because Kevin was a man?

Would that have mattered?

Rolf's conclusion was that there were more similarities than differences – the rubbing, the screaming, the exhaustion, and that divine final harvest. The differences were only two, but they were striking. Kevin did not kiss. At the beginning, he'd touched his mouth to Rolf's with little thought, but that functioned only to tighten Rolf's jeans. Even after they were both spent, Kevin only clapped Rolf on the back and said, "That was awesome, man."

Rolf's disappointment was the other difference. Because Rolf had wanted to be kissed by Kevin, a desire he had never expected to have. In fact, Rolf was overwhelmed by emotions he never would have associated with intercourse. Regret, that the encounter had only been touch-and-go, and he hadn't even thought to offer Kevin a romantic dinner of broiled pig's ears and turnip juice. Confusion, because something as downright wicked as eroticism could suddenly be good in more than just a physical manner. And love.

Yes, love. The words that Nazz-girl had spoken to him rang in his head, and he wanted to scream them after Kevin: "Rolf loves you."

Rolf choked on the realization and bent over to calm his jumping heart. He caught sight of a pool of demon blood coagulating between crumpled blades of straw. Kevin had left it behind. Tradition told Rolf that he was most certainly not to touch it, but he was beginning to question everything he'd previously known about his world.

He could never denounce tradition, and he knew he had to be guilty, and he knew that they could never repeat this or speak of it again. But if it were entirely up to him, Kevin would never leave him alone like this, half-naked and confused, clutching a bundle of straw and pretending it was a bouquet of forget-me-nots.

* * *

**A/N: NO REGRETS. **

**It really took me a while to get the final scene (Rolf/Kevin) to turn out the way I wanted it to. Rolf is hard to write. Which is a real shame, because I love him so much. :P**

**Anyway, I hope you liked it! Reviews are appreciated, but please... not too harsh. This is my first time trying something like this.**


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